Phoenix Rising
by Lady Lioness
Summary: A fic based on the spoilers for "Cry Your Name," Liz grieves for the one she lost.


Author's Notes: The inspiration for this came to me as I was walking home from   
class tonight, feeling quite miserable about my life. Normally I can't write  
Dreamgirl fic, but like Liz, I know what survivor's guilt feels like and I also  
know what it's like to be completely abandoned by everything and everyone you  
cherish. The fic's based on the main spoiler(you know the one) for "Cry Your Name."  
Spoiler warning also for "Heart of Mine."   
  
"Phoenix Rising"  
  
She stood woodenly at the entrance to her room, before her feet led her  
inside. A numb haze had settled over her mind, dulling everything. Distantly, she  
knew that eventually she would have to make sense of it all, but for now she   
was content to not care.   
  
Night had fallen, driving out the natural light from the world. Only the  
artifical creations of man remained. The harsh flourscent beams of the street   
lights outside shot through her window to wrap around her. She simply stood there,  
in the center of that unnatural light, needing the illusion of brightness. Maybe  
if she remained there long enough, the awful cold that had sunk through her skin  
would dissipate.   
  
Never before had she felt this way. When her grandmother died, she at least  
had the comfort of saying goodbye, of being there at her passing. With him, there  
had been no warning, just a sudden, horrible feeling in her stomach as the Sheriff  
somberly walked through the glass doors of the diner.   
  
She needed to do something, anything but remember. Automatically, she retreated  
to the place she always went to when her life started to crumble. She didn't   
remember climbing through the windows, just suddenly found herself standing cloaked  
in shadows on the small balcony. She bent down and pulled the loose brick, behind which  
lay her journal, from the wall. The grit from the mortar scraped against her smooth  
fingertips and her hands tightened around it, the edges digging into her palms. Suddenly,  
she was filled with the urge to toss it through the window, just to see the explosion  
of glass, just for the crickle-crackle to break the thick silence that had followed  
her home. She would never hear his laugh again.  
  
The brick fell from her slack hands, narrowly missing her feet as it landed with  
a quiet thump on the dusty concrete. She started to reach for the journal, but  
words of the past started to flood through her mind. Dead, dead, she had died,  
brought back by magic hands, by love, for love, dead, dying, she had died. But then  
she lived. It was hard enough hearing her own voice chant the reminders, she  
couldn't face the tangible proof that it had all happened.   
  
She had died, torn apart by a stray bullet. It would have been a tragic incident,  
a promising woman destroyed in her prime. But Max had saved her, had brought her  
back, risked everything because he couldn't bear to live in a world without her.   
Now Max was with Tess and her best friend was the one dead, unhealable, lost forever.   
  
It was her fault, her fault. She had deliberately broken Max's heart to save  
the world. She had been deliberately brought back to life. A heart for a heart.  
A life for a life.   
  
Jerking up, her knees began to tremble and she shuffled away from the wall, not  
stopping until her legs hit the lawn chair. She sank down, feeling the plastic  
give way beneath her. She began to shiver, the coldness inside melting, sending   
shards of ice through her veins. The words inside her head swirled faster and faster  
until all she heard was a low, dull roar.   
  
He had sat here, celebrating a return to that which he loved. She had been over  
there, watching as he dismissed Isabel with cool eyes, feeling envious. He had managed  
to recover from the addiction that lay beneath their kisses, had escaped the   
whirlpool of emotional chaos which dominated their lives. He had broken free and  
she had been jealous because no matter how hard she tried, her connection with Max,  
her feelings for the alien boy, always drew her back.   
  
She brought her legs up on the chair, resting her forehead against her  
knees, huddling in a tight ball. She didn't think she would ever be warm again. Maybe  
if she had just walked away when it first happened, if she had stayed out of it,  
maybe he would still be alive. It was all her fault.   
  
If she and Maria had just let them drive off, all those months ago, he'd still  
be alive. He wouldn't have gone to the Prom with Isabel, and he wouldn't have  
gotten into the car to see those stupid pictures. He would be sitting at home,  
strumming on his bass, composing songs in his head. His blue eyes would be twinkling  
in merriment as he slung an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her in a half hug.  
He would still be alive if she had just let Max go. But no, she had been selfish,  
and now he was dead, dead, gone forever.   
  
It should have been her, it should have been her lying lifeless against the  
tiles, it should have been her. Max should have let her die, it was all his fault.  
It should have been her!   
  
Warmth flooded through her as the rage suddenly bubbled free from where  
she had been keeping it chained. She had sacrificed so much for those aliens. Her  
relationship with her parents, her free time, her grades, her heart...now they  
stole her best friend's life. It was all their fault!   
  
Shooting up from the chair, she picked up the forgotten brick and hurled  
it against the wall where Max had drawn her the heart, during that magical   
time when everything was hopeful and new. Lies, total and complete lies.  
She had given it all up for him, never expecting that he would actually go to the  
blond alien, a part of her firmly believing that he would see through her ruse.  
  
The brick connected with the wall, a solid thwap breaking the silence that  
had plagued her for so long. A dull white mark scarred the wall as it thumped to  
the ground. Viciously, she kicked the lawn chair out of her way as she went  
to retrieve the brick. If it hadn't been for Max and all his fucking alien crap,  
she would have seen what was happening to him, would have seen the warning signs,  
she knew she would have. It was all Max's fault.   
  
Another white streak joined the first as she again sent the brick flying through  
the air. The rage was potent now as she dredged up old memories, damning herself for  
being so selfish and damning Max for letting her suffer through this alone. A third  
mark made an appearance and then a fourth, as she couldn't seem to stop now, the rage  
controlling her as the numbness did earlier. She couldn't seem to stop cursing Max,  
wishing he had let her die. It would have been better if Max had just died in the  
Crash.  
  
Stunned at the thought, she stared at the marred wall, sinking to her knees.   
She broke then, the sobs ripping through her soul, burning up her throat. The shadows  
danced around her in sympathy, the silence fled now before the sound of her grief.  
Her hair veiled her face as she beat against the floor with one closed fist, needing  
the physical pain to partially eclipse the agony in her heart. Hot tears dripped off  
her cheeks to stain the concrete, the moisture soon being joined by the crimson liquid  
of her blood as the harsh material rubbed the skin of her hand raw.   
  
It seemed to her like the tears would never stop, that she would melt into  
her tears and then cry herself out. Eventually though, they trickled to a close.  
Her eyes were on fire and her head was throbbing. Slowly, she uncurled, wincing as  
her cramped muscles loosened. The streetlight was dim now, its pale false light  
no match for the brillance of the rising sun. Streaks of red bled into the midnight  
blue of the sky, heralding the coming of a new dawn. She rose to her feet, her  
injured hand resting against her chest, wiping her nose absently with her free hand.  
Her eyes remained fixed on the horizon, despite the fact that the light sent needles  
of pain through her sensitive eyes. It was important that she watch, however. If  
she could figure out how the sun managed to rise every single day, maybe she would  
learn how to keep living. Then, as the sun rose, so would she. 


End file.
